I was at home then in the world of figures, but not in that of values.
But when I was twelve years old I caught my first strong glimpse of one of the fundamental forces of existence, whose votary I was destined to be for life - namely, Beauty.
Dostoevsky preaches the morality of the pariah, the morality of the slave.
The stream of time sweeps away errors, and leaves the truth for the inheritance of humanity.
Being gifted needs courage.
The war imbued my tin soldiers with quite a new interest. It was impossible to have boxes enough of them.